


makin’ my way downtown

by MissSugarPlum



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Gen, M/M, Meet-Cute, Not Beta Read, Not actually crack, i mean what else is there to say really, rated t for teens who curse, the boys are supes awkward what can i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 04:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15135602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSugarPlum/pseuds/MissSugarPlum
Summary: “Um.” Lance has no idea what’s happening. Did the guy’s brain finally process what happened and he’s here to fight? Is Lance about to get his ass kicked?(Don’t get him wrong, he knows the basics of fighting—his older siblings made sure their baby brother always knew how to take care of himself, if the need ever arose—but Lance is a realist, and he can see the muscles bulging underneath the guy’s awful retro jacket.)





	makin’ my way downtown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hootnooot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hootnooot/gifts).



> so there’s this girl. her name is khia, and she’s lovely, and (ignoring the fact that it’s after midnight oops) it’s HER BIRTHDAY TODAY. so i wrote a lil thing for her, because wow i love her lots<3
> 
> ALSO, fun fact, this is based on a true story shared from none other than the birthday girl herself, so have fun with that knowledge
> 
>  
> 
> ~~you know i had to do it to em~~
> 
>  
> 
> ily khia<33
> 
> (song title, of course, from A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton)

Lance snickers as Pidge groans for the umpteenth time. “How much longer?” she asks. Lance is too smart to call it a whine to her face, but it absolutely is.

 

“Three minutes less than when you asked three minutes ago,” Hunk responds promptly, and grins when Pidge shoots a glare his way.

 

Pidge grumbles under her breath.

 

“What was that?” Lance asks innocently.

 

Pidge turns her glare toward him. “I _said_ , I can’t believe we decided to walk all the way downtown. My body wasn’t built for this kind of weather!”

 

“It’s seventy-five degrees,” Hunk points out.

 

“Yeah, and _sunny_!”

 

“It’s literally perfect weather!”

 

“It’s terrible! My eyes are on _fire_!”

 

Lance throws an arm around Pidge and pulls her in close, ignoring her flailing limbs. “Sometimes you gotta leave the man-cave and enjoy mother nature, Katie.”

 

“I’m a girl,” she replies dryly, ducking out from his arm. “I don’t _do_ man-caves.”

 

“My statement stands. Enjoy the outside world! Breathe in the fresh air!”

 

“So far all we’ve done is take a bunch of photos of you in that alley because you insisted the lighting was perfect.”

 

“It was!”

 

“I squatted next to you for ten minutes while you shouted ‘yaaas, these angles.’” Pidge’s imitation of Lance is completely deadpan, and Lance feigns offense while Hunk cracks up.

 

“It _was_ a little ridiculous,” Hunk offers between his giggles, and Lance gasps in betrayal. “Did you see the looks we were getting?”

 

Lance sniffs. “They just don’t know how to appreciate true art.”

 

“Sure, Lance.” But Pidge is grinning now, an extra pep in her step, so Lance calls it a win.

 

Another few minutes pass companionably, and then Pidge is squinting through her glasses. “What the…?”

 

Lance follows her gaze and, sure enough, up ahead is a sight he wasn’t quite ready for. A boy—probably around their age, maybe a little older, if Lance really had to guess—is standing on tiptoe underneath one of the many trees lining the sidewalk, holding a phone up to his ear with one hand and holding—is that a bird?—in the other. He looks frazzled, and his hair definitely belongs to another decade, but something about him catches Lance’s eye.

 

“What’s he doing?” Hunk mutters, and his question is partially answered as the guy’s voice raises a few decibels.

 

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” he yells at whoever’s on the other end of the phone call. He makes a face at whatever the other person is saying. “Whatever, _Takashi_ ,” he says, and snaps the phone shut. (Lance is simultaneously disgusted and impressed; he didn’t think they even _made_ flip phones anymore, much less sold them for actual public use, but that method of hanging up on someone has that satisfying sense of finality to it that you just can’t get from newer smartphones.) Then he carefully, despite what Lance would’ve guessed based on his rugged demeanor, _carefully_ deposits the tiny bird onto the tallest branch he can reach.

 

The bird lets out a pitiful-sounding chirp, and the guy who _definitely_ has a mullet strokes one gentle finger along its head before stepping away.

 

“He’s a real Snow White, isn’t he?” Pidge mutters, and Hunk smothers a laugh into his shoulder. They draw closer to the stranger, and though they’re absolutely far enough away that he can’t hear them, the guy looks up suddenly as if sensing their eyes on him.

 

And speaking of eyes…

 

Not to mention the rest of him, now that he’s close enough to see properly…

 

“Wow, you’re hot,” Lance says without thinking. Pidge’s hand hits her forehead with a loud _smack_. Lance isn’t too worried though—they’re a good ten feet away from the gorgeous stranger, _at least_ , and there’s no way he could have heard Lance’s probably-embarrassing lack of brain-to-mouth filter.

 

The guy blinks his pretty pretty eyes and says, “Uh, thanks.”

 

And Lance suddenly can’t think straight, what with Hunk’s loud laughter drowning out his thoughts and his own mortification threatening to choke him.

 

He manages a squeaky “Uhhhhhh” before his voice completely dries up and he marches forward briskly, determined to put this incident behind him, both literally and figuratively.

 

Hunk hurries to catch up because he’s the best, most supportive best friend Lance could’ve ever hoped for, no matter that he’s still chortling into his sleeve. “That was amazing, dude.”

 

Lance takes back everything nice he’s ever thought about Hunk. “Shut up.”

 

“No, seriously. Did you _see_ the look on his face?”

 

“I was kind of too busy trying not to die, thanks. Can we all just forget—” Lance breaks off as he realizes: “Where’s Pidge?”

 

“Here!” Pidge skips up behind them, gasping a little for breath. “Had a rock in my shoe—took forever to get the little bastard out.”

 

“Okay well, let’s go! Far away from here!” Lance lengthens his stride, and the other two hurry to catch up.

 

“Dude, hey,” Hunk says, laying a hand on Lance’s shoulder. He sounds annoyingly even-breathed for the pace they’re walking, Lance thinks. “It’s gonna be okay.”

 

“Yeah.” Pidge, on the other hand, sounds like she’s struggling to keep up, and after a brief second, Lance guiltily slows his steps. “We all say stupid shit sometimes—remember last month, at the food court at the mall?”

 

“Whoa, hey, I thought we were never bringing that up again!” Hunk immediately protests.

 

“See?” Pidge grins at Lance. “And he’s fine. You’re gonna be too.”

 

“ _Hey!_ ”

 

All three of them turn at the shout, and Lance is speechless when he sees none other than the beautiful, mulleted Snow White literally _running_ up to them and stopping right in front of Lance.

 

“Um.” Lance has no idea what’s happening. Did the guy’s brain finally process what happened and he’s here to fight? Is Lance about to get his ass kicked?

 

(Don’t get him wrong, he knows the basics of fighting—his older siblings made sure their baby brother always knew how to take care of himself, if the need ever arose—but Lance is a realist, and he can see the muscles bulging underneath the guy’s awful retro jacket.)

 

“Here.” The guy thrusts one hand out to Lance, and Lance is about to duck and return fire when he realizes the fist is closed around something—a scrap of crumpled paper, it looks like? Lance takes it, fumbles and almost drops it, and smooths out the creases, and—

 

“ _What—_?”

 

“You’re hot too,” the guy blurts out, and he looks about as uncomfortable and embarrassed as Lance was not thirty seconds ago. “So, uh—here. You should call me sometime. If you want.”

 

Lance’s brain has officially stopped working at this point. “ _Call_ —”

 

“No, you’re right, texting would be easier,” the guy says, and wow, Lance would really like his name at some point.

 

“What even is happening right now,” Hunk mutters, and Pidge shushes him.

 

“Texting is easier,” Lance agrees faintly, and not-Snow White smiles, a bit awkwardly.

 

“So yeah, I’ll, uh… just be going now,” he stammers out, and Lance hates that the only thing running through his brain right now is how cute he looks when he blushes.

 

The guy turns and nearly runs away without any further words, and it’s only when Pidge nudges him sharply that he shakes himself from his stupor. “Hey! _What’s your name?_ ” he hollers.

 

The guy—the nameless guy, the gorgeous guy, the guy who _just gave Lance his number_ —doesn’t even break his stride, just looks over his shoulder and yells back, “It’s Keith!” with another stupid (cute, charming, _enticing_ ) little smirk.

 

Lance’s heart flutters. He’ll deny it to his dying breath, no matter what Pidge and Hunk say, but flutter it does.

 

“Keith,” he murmurs, and he gingerly tucks the slip of paper into the pocket of his jeans. “Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first fic i’ve ever entirely written _and_ published from my phone, so let me know if there are any mistakes! hbd once more to the most rad shark lover i know  <33


End file.
